Hotter Than Hell
by JadeBear12
Summary: When Rochelle, Nick, Ellis and Coach are shipwrecked with no where else to turn they decide to head off to a military base, in search of a safe haven. However, the unfortunate foursome soon realize that the infected aren't the only monsters out there. R
1. Left for Dead

Dirty, ragged and out of breath, the four survivors scrambled inside the safe room slamming the door with a defiant bang. The howls of the infected pierced the air as they clawed at the metal separating them from the healthy human flesh within. Rochelle, Coach, Nick and Ellis gasped for air before they pushed a heavy mahogany desk in front of the door.

"Damnit…" Coach wheezed, clutching his sides. "This is the most exercise I've gotten in 20 years." His complaint did not go unnoticed; Nick chuckled as Coach collapsed in a leather office chair.

"Well it sure isn't doing you any good." Nick said, finding the strength to insult him with a cocky smirk. He perched on the edge of the desk and gingerly touched the long gash in his thigh. Wincing he pulled out his health pack and started to clean the wound.

"Shut up, Nick." Coach said, closing his eyes.

Ellis chimed in, but his breathing was still labored. "How's the leg?" He breathed.

"Just fine Overalls." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm through his gritted teeth. "Why don't you worry about yourself."

Rochelle frowned. "Ellis, sweetie, do you want to sit down?" She asked, currently supporting the majority of Ellis' weight. He had his arm around her shoulder and was carefully favoring his right side. A smoker had caught him around the middle and bruised his ribs pretty badly. There wasn't much they could do for him except give him some pain pills but they had obviously started to wear off. Rochelle helped him onto a chair before scouring the room for supplies while her male comrades rested.

The safe room looked like it had been a fairly large office at one point, shared by at least two people because there were two desks – the one they had propped up against the door and the one that still sat in the center of the room. One wall was just a huge window overlooking the Gulf of Mexico and the few streets and buildings between them and the beach. But it was hard to appreciate the beauty of the water after what they had been through.

"Ah man… all that water reminds me of the time Keith n' me went to the beach. We drove down to Florida in my ma's van, cuz we'd wanted to meet some of those cute spring break girls an' when we got there… Keith was tryin' awful hard to impress them ladies and… well mind you now Keith had never seen a shark-"

"Ellis. I'm not in the mood." Nick growled. He was dabbing his leg with a burning disinfectant.

Coach mumbled in agreement. "Save your breath."

She pulled open a drawer and found a health pack and two bottles of pain pills. "Med kit. Pain Pills." Rochelle announced, setting them up on top of the desk amongst strewn papers and office supplies. Beneath this she found a thin blanket neatly folded into a small square. She kept searching, riffling through drawers. "Ammo here." She said and then proceeded to reload her pistol. Ellis leaned forward, pain etched in his features and grabbed a bottle. He unscrewed the cap, finding only two pills, which he swallowed.

"Alright." She said, picking up the med pack. "Lets patch you up."

"No, we should keep it for a real emergency." Ellis said. Nick had been carrying their only health pack when they'd entered, and he'd used it making the red bag in Rochelle's hands their last one.

"Quit fussing." She said opening it up. He started to lift up his shirt, revealing an extensive bruise over his chest.

"Damn." Coach whistled. "Here, let me help." He stood up and made his way over to the pair.

Rochelle sighed. "Thanks." She said letting Coach take over. Being a sports man, he had seen his fair share of injuries, and seemed to know what to do better than anyone. The group was resigned to letting him take over when he could. Coach began to tape up Ellis' ribs. From the way it looked he had probably broken one.

"Pass those pills my way." Nick grunted. Rochelle tossed him a bottle and he dry swallowed one. "Ah, that's better."

When Coach had finished healing him, Ellis sighed in relief letting his eyes rest a bit. It seemed that the medicine, plus all the strain on his body had exhausted him. Over the room settled a pensive silence, taking root as each survivor found a place to rest. It had been a trying day for all of them. When the ship they were on was overrun with infected and crash-landed on the beach of Galveston, Texas they realized that they needed a new plan – fast. The horde had not been deterred by the ruined vessel, and had chased the remaining uninfected off, taking care to thin out the pack those who were resistant to the Green Flu. The four of them managed to stay together through it all. They had watched others get picked off or vanish in the heat of battle but Rochelle, Nick, Ellis and Coach knew they fought best together. At this point it was the only way they knew how to stay alive.

Ellis was the first one to break the silence. "There's barely any writin' on the walls." He said groggily. The other three looked around to see if he was right, they hadn't been paying attention to the room. Up against one of the walls was a Chrome Shotgun, a Pump Shotgun and two pistols but around them the walls were bare except for a perfectly intact CEDA poster. "Do ya think this place is new?" He asked.

"Well… Texas wasn't within the radius of the infection. At least not on the map I had." Rochelle added.

"Are you serious? This whole city is abandoned. I haven't seen anything but infected since we got here." Nick said sourly.

They all paused for a moment to think about it. Nick was right.

"Wait…" Coach said suddenly. "All the infected we saw came from that big ass ship."

Nick's eyebrows furrowed. "Plus, if it was new don't you think it would be better stocked?" Out of curiosity Nick reached down to open the drawers of the desk he was sitting on. In the bottommost drawer were two more health packs and in the top drawer were packaged food and two huge bottles of water.

"Well would you look at that." Coach said, unable to resist grinning at the sight of food.

"Huh." Nick grunted.

Rochelle stood and strode over to the CEDA notice taped up to the wall. "It's dated for two days ago." She said, pointing to the bottom of the page with the CEDA director's signature and a written date.

"Alright. So maybe it is new." Nick conceded. "I suppose they evacuated civilians to get them farther away from the outbreak."

"And put up these doors, and supplied the room for poor souls like ourselves." Coach added.

Nick grumbled unhappily at the comment. "Thank God for the CEDA." He said bitterly. "Let's hope they were able to save somebody's asses 'cause they sure as hell didn't save ours."

Rochelle shrugged and continued reading the CEDA flyer. Ellis let his head loll lazily to the side so he could look outside. It was beginning to get dark, and the sunset was fading into a muted purple.

"That's not their fault Nick." Coach said, quickly. "Nobody coulda seen that coming."

Nick shook his head but didn't say anything else.

"My throat is dryer than a… a… ah, hell just git me some water." Ellis said shifting his heavy head to face Nick. He reached out a hand. Nick obliged him, passing over a bottle of water, and Ellis drank like a dying man chugging down almost half the bottle.

"Save some for us sweetie." Rochelle said gently.

Ellis reluctantly pulled the bottle away from his lips. "Right, sorry."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Listen to this boys." She said, running her finger along a passage of the flyer. "_The City of Galveston and the surrounding area have been evacuated to the temporary La Marque Military Base. Any uninfected civilians are encouraged to retreat to this safe zone._" She read.

"Where the hell is that?" Coach asked, looking up at Rochelle for more information.

"From here it's probably less than a days walk." Nick answered, getting a surprised look from everyone in the room. "What?" He said defensively. "I lived here."

"Oh… um… yeah, there's a map here." She said pointing to a small picture on the flyer, with many streets in grey, a star showing where they were and a bright yellow line showing where they should go.

"When did you live 'n Texas?" Ellis asked, giving him a lopsided grin.

"I grew up here, if you must know." Nick said glancing away from him and out at the dark waters in the distance. 

"You don't sound it." Ellis said curious.

"Yeah, because unlike you I learned how to speak proper English." He snapped, obviously regretting sharing this information.

"Jeez your grumpy today." Ellis chided with a small chuckle.

"Yeah well you're an idiot everyday." He said, but the words were weak due to the lack of true malice. He was watching Ellis struggle to keep his eyes open.

"Leave him alone Nick." Rochelle said quietly.

He sighed. "Whatever."

"I guess it's settled then. We ought to get over to that base." Coach stood, grabbed a container of canned food and unsealed the top to the sound of metal popping. The smell of wet fruit filled the air. "Damn." He grumbled picking out a piece of fruit. "I hate pineapple." He popped it into his mouth anyway; this was no time to be picky. Nick reached down and pulled out some cold canned beets, a canned tuna fish, canned corn, a small box of crackers and some jerky. Nick picked up the jerky and opened it, inhaled and sighed happily.

"Don't be greedy." Rochelle said, she rolled Ellis' chair toward the small group and together they ate what little they had. Once they had finished their strange dinner it was silent.

"I'm still hungry." Ellis frowned, rubbing his stomach gingerly.

Coach sighed. "Me too boy, but we've got to save some for the morning."

They all solemnly agreed with this unfortunate fact.

"Do you think the military's got ham?" Ellis asked.

Everyone laughed, even Nick. "You know what I've been fantasizing about?" He added. "Bread. Fresh baked, warm, buttery." Nick said, licking his lips.

Rochelle sighed at the memory of bread. That sounded great. "Or some cake." She said.

Everybody went quiet again, the thought of thick chocolate cake swirling through their mind.

"Gah, enough of this food talk." Coach pouted, patting his gut. "You can't tease a big man like me with thoughts of good old fashioned cooking." He stood and paced over to the window, and shut the blinds. The laughter slowly died down, and they all found a place on the floor to rest. Rochelle set a blanket over Nick and Ellis, who lay next to one another. Neither guy complained, mostly because they didn't have the energy. Rochelle lay down next to Nick and Coach settled in on her other side. Quietly they lay, eyes heavy. "Rest up boys, and Ro." Coach said. "We got a big day tomorrow." The horrid screech of a hunter rang through the room, too close for comfort, to emphasize his point.

The red light from the exit sign above the second door cast a dim glow upon each face. Their eyes were baggy and their mouths taught around the edges, their cheeks drained of color. Their eyes were flat, worn out, approaching the edge of nothingness. They had seen too much. Their hands were dry, cracked, cut, bruised. They were the hands of fighters. Their bodies sagged at the shoulders, the effect of too much weight, not physically but mentally. They had been pushed over the limit, and then pushed even further. But the laughter, the camaraderie… the friendship kept them alive. Together they were able to draw themselves up, brush off the dirt of yesterday and push on because they knew they were needed. They couldn't give up because that would mean letting everyone else down. To die now would be a waste. Nobody was allowed to give up. Nobody would be left for dead.

_Disclaimer: Left 4 Dead is the property of Valve. Not me._

_I know this chapter is kind of slow; it was more of an experiment really. Please read and review, I'd really appreciate the constructive criticism. Plus it will inspire me to write more, quicker. Thank you all for reading and I hope you continue to stay interested. _


	2. Our List of Troubles Only Grow

The light that crept into the room was soft. The curtains had dulled the yellow glow of daybreak. Rochelle was currently the only one awake, and was grinning at the scene before her, wishing for a camera. The men were splayed out on the ground, snoring, mouths agape, bodies splayed out comfortably. She toyed with the idea of waking them, but decided to let them be. She opened up a box, containing bullets for her riffle.

Nick stirred, hearing the clink of bullets, automatic shifting of weaponry – and an unfamiliar humming. Ellis's snoring was ringing in one ear and Coach's in the other. He was surrounded. He tried to get up, but found something heavy was keeping him pinned down. He mumbled the groggy equivalent of 'what the hell?'.

"Get. Off." He grunted, shoving Ellis' arm from his chest so he could sit up. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the sleep. After a minute Nick made out the blurry figure of Rochelle reloading her new weapon, humming to herself.

Rochelle looked up from her task, and grinned. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He said, smoothing his hair back as best he could.

He climbed to his feet, picking up his submachine gun from against the wall. He picked some of the grime off the weapon.

She pointed towards guns they had found the other day. "Do you want a new weapon?" She asked. "They're pretty nice."

"No." He walked toward her and the pile of ammo, searching for the kind that would fit his gun. He wasn't particularly talkative in the morning, so she didn't take offence to his short reply.

There was a long silence, filled with only gentle breathing. Things between Nick and Rochelle had started off rocky to say the least. His bristly attitude rubbed her the wrong way, a lot. But often she found that no matter how many times he claimed he was only part of their team as a matter of convenience, whenever she needed him he was there to shoot the smoker strangling her from behind. When he just as easily could have looked out only for himself. Stubbornly he stayed. She felt strange standing here with him. They were practically alone; she couldn't recall a time when she had been alone with any of the other survivors. He looked at her suddenly, as if he sensed the direction her thoughts had gone down. His eyes, like frosted ivy, fell on hers with a startling effect.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the snarling face of an infected as he groped for them through the bars. They turned to sneer at disease-mutated face.

Nick found what he was searching for, shoving a new clip in his gun.

"We should get moving soon, if we want to get there by noon…" He said, turning on the safety, and leaning against the desk. "I should wake them up."

She nodded, and sat next to him watching the others sleep. Ellis and Coach snored loudly, at the same time, making Rochelle and Nick chuckle. "But they're so peaceful." Rochelle grinned, shaking her head. "Here, allow me." She took aim, and fired, blowing the head off the zombie with a resounding bang that shattered the peace like a hammer shatters glass.

Ellis and Coach were on their feet in a second, wildly scanning the room, ashen as ghosts. When they saw nothing but Rochelle and Nick's laughing faces, they realized they had been at the butt of a joke. Ellis grinned, his face flushed. "Ya'll got me good, I got ta' admit. I damn near pissed ma-self." He said.

"Damn it all. What the hell was that for?" Coach snapped, clearly disgruntled.

"Come on Coach? Can't you take a joke?" Nick smirked.

"Sorry boys, there was a zombie out there so I shot it through the window." Rochelle admitted with a guilty grin.

Coach glared at both of them, opening his mouth to tell them off. But an innocent Ellis interrupted him. "Ooh man! This reminds me of a great story. So me, Dave n' Keith were possum huntin' and we came 'cross this ratty old birds nest… So Keith wanted to go pokin' around it but me 'n Dave didn't want none to do with the thing. He convinces us ta' climb a tree anyway, tuh go get it…"

The trio of listeners sighed, but let his story continue through breakfast. And through their preparation of supplies. And through the use of the facilities, the facilities being a bucket in the corner of the room, they hid behind the window curtains for courtesies sake. The story ended with a hospital trip due to extensive possum and bird scratches over 94% of Keith's body.

However, no mater how amusing the story, once it ended they could not afford to hesitate any longer.

Coach reached for the safe room door, closed his eyes and prayed out loud. "Please, God, see us through this day."

Three voices responded with a quiet. "Amen."

Out in the street they had nowhere to hide. Zombies flocked to them in droves, the wailing, screaming bodies met with a barrage of bullets from the four survivors that huddled together.

"Jockey!" Ellis yelled, over the gunfire and wretched howls. The crazed laughing was haunting in the midst of all this chaos. A bouncing figure, quickly made its way toward them, cackling with its thick arms outstretched. Ellis aimed for it, fired and hit it smack in the thigh just as it reached out toward Rochelle. It yowled, and Ellis grinned shooting it again. A hard pound on his right shoulder made him forget his victory for a moment, but he shot the common infected as it grabbed his shirt.

"Thanks El." She called, firing at the featureless mass before her. The work was painfully slow, each time they shot one - two more seemed to appear. They flooded from out of one of the homes.

"Back up! Back up!" Nick called, casting a Molotov sailing through the air toward the unyielding mob. "Fire in the hole!"

They all ran toward him, away from the flames that enveloped the screaming horde. They continued down the common road that ran parallel to the highway, and row upon row of houses and shops. They ran, their only thought getting to safety but it was hard to focus with air so thick.

"Stick together." Coach shouted, watching Ellis obliviously jog further away.

Ellis realized his mistake, and fell in step with the group once again. "Oops. Sorry guys."

"We're almost to the causeway." Nick said. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. He had unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit, but it was his jacket that stifled him. It was an overcast day but the humidity was oppressive. The closer they got to the water, the cooler the air became, bringing gentle relief to the survivors. That is until they saw the rolling fog that began to envelop the street. Nick jumped the short barrier that separated the road from the highway, and walked on. The rest followed suit, cautiously. The highway was packed with cars. All abandoned, some with doors flung open, scattered in a hodgepodge that resembled a traffic jam – only without the drivers. They held their breath, not daring to even brush against one. The fog was getting thicker, the further they went, making it difficult to keep track of one another.

"So far so good." Coach said, looking up at the sky in silent thanks.

"Don't you go a' jinxn' things Coach." Ellis jokingly warned.

Coach looked up, expecting to see Ellis' grin but instead found a wall of fog separating him from the three hazy silhouettes. The closest of which was obviously Rochelle even through her features weren't clear, but the furthest away from him had the dark wide shoulders of Nick but he couldn't be certain if it was really him or Ellis.

"My eyes must be going bad." Coach sighed. "I can hardly see you boys, everything's getting hazy around the edges..."

"We just got to keep close, look for the person behind and in front of you." Rochelle advised.

"And whatever you do… don't go towards the light." Nick said with mock seriousness.

They continued on, until they heard Ellis' voice from up front say. "We gotta smoker up ther', I think." In the distance they heard the familiar gurgling cough, everyone tensed, heart racing. With no way to see they didn't know where to aim.

"Get down." Coach ordered, in a rushed whisper. Everyone crouched so they could hide as best they could, touching the ground to feel a way forward. Nobody made a sound, nobody dared to breathe.

'_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.'_

Rochelle looked up, seeking the source of the noise. Glass shattered, raining down on her head. She stifled a scream, and shielded her face but nails reached for her and dug into her arm. She lashed out, smacking the zombie away as it reached for her through a car window. A horrible stench hit her, gagging her with the scent of decay and disease. She shot the infected in the head, splattering blood and human mater on them all. Before Ellis could ask if she was alright he felt the air rush out of him as a long serpentine tongue wound around his waist and wrenched him through the air.

"Ellis no!" She screamed. Rochelle leaped up, racing after his retreating form. All fear lost, she clambered over the hood of a jeep and disappeared from sight.

"Ro! Wait!" Coach called, but it was to late. They had both vanished. "Damn it! They're gone." He shook his head, rubbing a worried hand across his scalp. "It's just you and me for now Nick. Nick?"

Nick had gone rigid, his lips were drawn into a tight line, and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Those idiots… are the least of our problems." He said.

Coach at first didn't understand, but then he heard it. There was splashing, echoing through the distorting mist. They were in the water. That meant they were surrounded, and separated on this thin strip of highway.

Coach and Nick were frozen, listening with grim defiance to the sound of the approaching horde. A shrill sound rang through the haze, and white lights flashed off in the distance. A car alarm.

"I'm getting sick of that sound." Coach said, reloading.

_Woo, wrote another chapter. Originally this was to be longer but, I decided to let it be. To build suspense. DUN DUN DUN. Please review, and give me some constructive criticism. And that would be wonderful. Thank you for reading. _


	3. One of Them

Rochelle fumbled through the fog, searching for a sign – his voice, his face – anything to show her where he was. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she was choked with fear. He was gone. She had lost him.

Her eyes leaked, the stream of tears only obscuring everything further.

Not only had she lost Ellis, she had lost herself. Coach and Nick were somewhere in the fog, and Ellis was being strangled to death. She pictured it, the breath leaving his body, finally going limp.

Holding up her trusty Magnum, Rochelle wiped her cheeks and kept moving. She wouldn't let that happen. "Ellis!" She croaked, her throat sore from the attempted suppressing of her tears.

Nothing: just terrifying silence. It was almost too much.

"ELLIS!"

Alone, she stumbled around the bumper of a minivan. Wildly she looked around, blood pumping in her ears. "El-" But her words were cut short by the sound of the alarm, breaking the deafening silence. She jumped, feeling her heart ricochet wildly in her chest. The sound was close, and the light was blindingly bright, even obscured by the weather.

She was drawn toward it immediately, unthinking, like the infected she so ruthlessly killed. As she got closer she saw what had set off the alarm. He had dropped his riffle on the hood of his car, leaving a shallow crater in the metal. She looked up.

There he was, dangling limply in the smokers' tongue – a smoker who stood on top of a streetlamp. She fired, tearing away flesh and tongue until Ellis slid from his grasp. Ellis landed on the roof of the car, while the smoker's head splattered across the pavement like a rotten pumpkin spilling its guts across the ground. Ellis didn't move.

Rochelle jumped onto the roof of the car, calling his name again.

He still didn't move.

"Get up, come on. Your alright." She said, gently shaking his shoulders. His eyes fluttered, he groaned. Tears welled up again, tears of relief, threatening to spill onto his face. "Good. Come on Ellis, you need to get up."

She lifted him into a sitting position, and he gasped, pulling air into his stinging lungs. "It's so damn loud." He mumbled, confused, clutching his aching ribs.

Over the sound of the wailing alarm they heard gunshots. The warm relief slowly drained, opening her ears to the sounds of the approaching horde. She saw the drove of moving bodies blacken the mist.

"I'm not gonna lie." He said, looking at his riffle. The pain was painted across his face, cracked around his eyes and mouth. He looked older than he should. "It hurts pretty bad. I don't know if I'm gonna be much help." He pulled out his pistol, and struggled onto his feet. "But imma sure as hell try."

Rochelle smiled. He was back, and not completely broken. Her eyes narrowed sliding from her friend to the shrieking mass that approached. "Alright then. Lets do this!"

Coach fired bullet after rapid bullet into those ungodly warped bodies, the sagging, dripping grey skin and shark black eyes haunting his vision even after they fell. He heard Nick yelp behind him as an infected dug his teeth into his coat sleeve. Coach whipped around, and smacked the damn thing in the face, crushing its nose. It recoiled with a barking yowl, and stumbled backwards clutching his face. He watched the life slowly in its eyes ebb as Nick shot his jaw off. He froze feeling sick at the sight. For a moment, it had seemed so… _afraid_.

"Don't wimp out on me now Coach." Nick called, pulling him from his thoughts. Just in time to see a female swipe her long, painted nails at his face. He shot her in the stomach, knocking her back but she wasn't down, and three more had swarmed around him, salivating over his flesh. Coach shoved them back and shot at each, missing once. Nick was right, he had to stay focused. He had been imagining things, fear was a human emotion. They were not human.

"Reloading!" Nick shouted. There was a brief moment, absent of gunfire, and they could hear fighting in the distance.

"They're still alive." Coach said, looking out into the distance, expecting to see Ellis and Ro. Instead he found horribly distorted faces with their teeth bared. The firing resumed.

Coach shot the last zombie in the legs, knocking him onto the ground. Nick finished the job, slamming the butt of his gun into his face. They looked at each other, exhausted. Coach patted Nick on the shoulder.

"Good work, lets get moving."

Nick shrugged his hand off, lazily. "Yeah."

They started to walk, their feet squelching in the bloody remains of the once infected. However, they didn't get far. They saw it before they heard it, the hulking figure unmistakable. A fear-striking roar making both their stomachs sink.

It stopped for a moment, reaching down with thick arms, crushing a car in its massive grip and hurling it toward them.

"Run! Tank!" Coach screamed, and Nick was quick to follow his advice. The car crash-landed where they had been standing moments ago.

"Fuck!" Nick swore, loudly, throwing himself over the hood of a car to get out of the way of the rampaging beast.

The tank charged, plowing through the abandoned cars, jaws aching for human flesh. Coach pushed himself forward, ignoring the cramping in his side and the tightness in his chest. He didn't think he would ever be able to eat another burger in good conscience – now that he knew how the cow must feel: scared shitless.

As they struggled to get away the tank had no problem throwing cars around to get to them. Nick turned to shoot, drawing the behemoths attention to him. The tank roared and raised his arms above his head, cracking the pavement beneath him. Coach joined in, firing at his wide torso. He backed up as he fired, and Nick did the same. They were making it angry. Like a wild bull, it snorted and charged, crumpling a car as it reached for Nick.

"Get out of the way!" Coach yelled, but it was too late. The tank had him trapped. He watched in horror as Nick was tossed out of sight.

The tank reared its ugly head in Coach's direction, gnashing his teeth. He ran, without bothering to shoot. His heart was racing. He had just seen Nick get thrown, probably killed.

Over the pounding of his own heart he heard gunfire. "Ro! Ellis!" He managed to yell, as he scrambled away from the beast chasing him.

"Coach?" He heard words return to him, nothing felt so good.

The tank roared behind him, close. His hope sank like a boat full of holes.

The mist must have been thinning because he could see two figures, elevated above a small group of zombies, less than ten left. They had managed to hold their own.

They saw him too, or at least the tank because the beastly zombie reared back feeling its haunches impaled by bullets. It whipped its head around, distracted from Coach, and he took that chance to run the hell away. The tank was weakening, because as it rounded on the two other survivors, his head sagged and his roar was laced with agony. Coach took a chance to reload, and began firing again. "Go to hell!" He called, opening round after round on the raw skin of his enemy.

Finally the beast fell, groaning, and keeling backwards with a resounding thud. But his relief that should have stemmed from this victory was diluted by guilt. He had lost Nick in the process.

"Coach!" Rochelle's voice carried, and he turned to see that they were racing toward him, leaving pile of bodies in their wake. Ellis was limping heavily, leaning on Rochelle for support.

Coach waved them over, unable to take another step.

"Where's Nick?" Ellis asked, out of breath as well. He looked up to see they had reached him already.

The drizzle of rain hit them suddenly, but it wasn't completely unexpected. "He… well, the tank came out of nowhere… It knocked him off somewhere on the bridge."

He watched as both their faces went ashen.

"We gotta go and look for 'im then." Ellis decided. He began to limp back towards the spot he had been pulled away from.

"Hold it, Ellis." Coach said placing a hand on the boys shoulder. "I… I don't think he made it. The tank probably knocked him into the water…"

"He can swim can't he?" Ellis replied, almost immediately. "I never did ask, but I guess he'd be the kind tuh know."

Coach swallowed the lump forming in his throat. The kids' optimism was breaking his heart. The adrenaline was ebbing, bringing the weary reality down on him. "I don't think…"

"Don't give up on 'im Coach." Ellis drawled, pleading. "We gotta know, we gotta at least try. It don't feel right just leavin' 'im without tryin'."

"He's right. There is still a chance." Rochelle said.

Coach sighed, nodding in silent agreement. The mist was thinning, replaced by the light rain, they were beginning to see the scene around them, a highway packed with cars and bodies, a wasteland of abandonment and decay. They called out his name, to no avail.

They walked up and down that causeway for what seemed like hours, looking into the deep blue waters and finding nothing. There was no sign of his body anywhere else either. Not in the pavement, or the cars, not even among the pile of infected bodies. They walked down and back that battle ground so many times Ellis could barely lift his feet. He looked as if he was about to pass out on the spot. As much as it hurt them they had to move on, or risk loosing another. The smell of salt was strong, but unable to overpower the rot and lingering smoker's cloud that saturated the air. The gritty feeling of their skin was normal, but it bothered them sometimes, the feeling of never being clean.

He heaved foul tasting water from his stomach onto the ground. With his cheek pressed to the cool, damp ground he groaned. He didn't know when it had started to rain but in didn't mater much. He was already soaked down to the bone, his body racked with violent shivering and coughing that made his chest burn. All limbs were stinging from their exertion through the cold waters.

He didn't know how long he sat there before the loose ground around him shifted. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him onto his back, and dragging him slowly to a place where the rain didn't reach him. Nick's bleary gaze fell on a face, blocked out by the bill of a hat.

"Ellis?" He breathed, barely above a whisper.

The figure didn't respond. It wasn't Ellis, he wouldn't be able to handle being quiet for so long. A hand began to tug at his clothes.

"Whoa there… I don't know you that well." He grumbled, grabbing the strangers' wrist. His grip wasn't as strong as he thought because the guy shook him off without a problem.

"You're hurt. You've lost a lot of blood."

Nick tried to pull the figures face into focus but his eyes wouldn't cooperate. "Who are you?"

"Listen, you need to stay still." The stranger said, dabbing a stinging liquid on the wound in chest. A bright crimson patch extended from his navel to the bottom of his pectoral muscles, surrounded by discolored yellow and blue skin. He cringed, but the discomfort didn't last long because once liquid was applied Nick got plastered with gauze and tape.

He tried to sit up, but his body was too heavy.

"Stay still. You may have a concussion."

He touched his head, and when he pulled away his fingers felt sticky. He tried to focus on his hand, but all he could see was a red blur, so he licked his thumb. "Blood…" He said, almost surprised.

"Exactly." The stranger gingerly lifted Nick's head to maneuver the bandage around it, to staunch the bleeding. "You might need stitches."

"Listen man, I appreciate the help… but I'll be fine…"

"… I'm a woman."

Nick had his mouth open to respond, but promptly shut it. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"My bad."

"Hmmm…"

"I'm sure you're very womanly… I just can't see a damn thing."

"Uh-huh."

"No really, everything is a blur."

"Don't worry about it."

He sighed, as she finished bandaging his wound and started rustling around behind him. There was an awkward gap in the conversation, which Nick felt compelled to fill. "You're not going to set me on fire?" He asked, hearing the striking of a match, and soft growing heat behind him.

"Of course not." She said, he heard the hint of a smile in her voice.

"I'm… Nick."

"Eliza"

"Not much of a talker, huh Eliza" He said. He pulled himself up into a hunched sort of sitting position, holding his head in his hands. He had one hell of a headache.

Instead of an instant reply he heard more rustling, and felt smoke gently curl against his face. The heat was comforting, carefully he moved toward the small flames.

"Once the swelling goes down you should be able to see better."

"Swelling?" Nick said, a trill of panic in his voice. He touched his face, feeling for any deformities.

"Don't worry, you look fine." She said, placating.

"Right…" He said, disbelieving. His skin was dry, he was sporting an ill-groomed beard and he knew there was blood caked along his forehead. He hated looking like this. He ran his ringed fingers through his hair, out of habit. "What are you doing out here? How did you find me?"

"I saw you wash up near my campsite." She answered.

"Campsite." He mused out loud. "Why didn't you evacuate with other survivors, to the base?" He asked with blunt curiosity. He was beginning to see the contours of her body, and the way the flames threw shadows on them. She was wearing dark green around her torso, it was some kind of fabric that made soft swishing noises when she moved. The dark shadows that hung under her bright red had, he assumed was her hair. Any discerning features, like the ones on her face, he couldn't quite make out.

She didn't answer him, immediately. Perhaps she was thinking of a way to explain. "I tried." She said finally. "They wouldn't let us in."

"Us?" Nick frowned, teeth gritted against the discomfort. He knew he ought to ask the right questions, the fact she was out here was a red flag for the conman. Yet the more information that he gathered the uneasier he grew. He shrugged off his soaked jacket, letting the heat thaw arms, and chest. Shivering, he pulled his arms around himself, trying to stop the involuntary tremors. Every point in his body was pulsing with ache.

"People like me. They said we were positive, for the virus."

His stomach knotted.

"It's all right. I haven't changed yet, it's still latent." She said, flat, knowing that no matter how she said it, would not comfort him. "I'm a Carrier."

Carrier. The word brought back memories of safe room walls.

_Carriers Kill_

_Carriers infect!_

_All Carriers can go to hell_

_Kill the Carriers_

_Carriers caused this zombie bullshit._

The words were vivid in his mind, red and black sprayed, dripping fresh on the walls of Louisiana.

He reached his hands out towards the fire. "And so they exiled you out here."

+++++  
_Disclaimer: I own only my ideas, and the OC Eliza appearing in this chapter. Nick, Ellis, Rochelle and Coach are all property of Valve, along with the game Left 4 Dead 2. _

_Mission accomplished. Another chapter done. Remember to review! (I like those, they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside). _


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